Tell Me Who I Am
by bella-cruz
Summary: Jack's facing one of the hardest challenges in his life: he has no recollection of his past. He wakes from a coma, not knowing his name or the name of his 'angel'. JS
1. Chapter 1

Title: Tell Me Who I Am  
Rating: PG:13  
Disclaimer: Not mine, nah-uh.  
  
-  
  
"Jack!!" Vivian called, watching her boss -her friend- fall to the ground. The suspects fled the scene and she rushed over to where Jack lay. "Jack! Come on, Jack, you can't die on me now.."  
  
His body was motionless and she felt his pulse weakening, she turned, spotting other agents walking into the warehouse. "Quick, get me an ambulance, we've got an agent down."  
  
-Three and a half weeks later -  
  
He blinked twice, clearing his vision. He was on his back, staring up at a white ceiling. He blinked again, same white ceiling.  
  
"Jack?" a voice questioned. The voice of an angel, he was certain. But who was Jack? Whomever it was.. he was a lucky guy, having an angel by his side. "Jack!"  
  
He saw blonde hair leaning into his line of vision, followed quickly by what he could only describe as beauty. The face of an angel.  
  
That could only mean that he was...Jack.  
  
Sleep called and he yawned. His blonde angel took his hand in hers and kissed it softly.  
  
"Sleep, Jack, it's alright. Everything is going to be alright."  
  
How could he not listen to an angel? He did his best to nod, then let his eyes drift shut, the image of his angel floating throughout his mind.  
  
-  
  
Voices. Whispered, hush tones. He opened his eyes again, this time to find that he was sitting up, leaning against pillows. Machines beeped all around him and at the end of his bed stood a tall man in a white overcoat.  
  
He wanted to speak, but his mouth was so dry that he couldn't even get out one word.  
  
An unknown hand brought a cup of water with a stray in it, in front of him, letting him sip from the straw. Much better.  
  
"Mr. Malone--" The man in the over coat started, his voice spoke with age and knowledge in the tone.  
  
"Huh?" he croaked. Where was that hand that held the water? And who exactly was 'Mr. Malone'?  
  
"Mr. Malone, you were shot and have been in a coma for over three weeks..." the voice went on, but he didn't listen.  
  
He had so many questions. He was Mr. Malone? Jack..Malone? Why couldn't he remember any of what the doctor (or so he presumed, unless God had started wearing white overcoats) was saying?  
  
"Where is she?" he managed. Interrupting the doctor, but not caring.  
  
The man across from him frowned in confusion. "Who?"  
  
"My angel."  
  
"Oh, you mean Samantha?" Samantha--such a beautiful name. It had to be her.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"She went home for the evening, Mr. Malone. Would you like me to have someone call her and ask her to come back?"  
  
He thought about it and shook his head. "Not if she'll be back."  
  
"She will. She's been here every night for the past three weeks." The doctor smiled slightly. "I think you have it right, I think she is your angel."  
  
To Be Continued... 


	2. Chapter 2

He slept most of that evening. His angel-- Samantha, was still in his dreams. He'd dream of her soft, sweet lips pressing against his, teasing him in a flirty manner.  
  
He remembered the doctor's words, the wise voice saying that she had been there every night, sitting by his side and holding his hand. Why? Were they married? If so, why couldn't he remember anything? To him she was only his beautiful blonde angel. Was she also his wife?  
  
It was frustrating; not being able to remember anything. He hadn't had the strength to tell the doctor, after muttering only a couple words, he fell asleep.  
  
"Jack."  
  
He looked up and noticed a dark-haired woman moving towards his bed.  
  
"Oh Jack!" she exclaimed, hugging him. He wondered how she managed, considering he was plugged into more machines then he could count. "I'm so glad you're alive!"  
  
"Who are you?" he asked.  
  
She pulled away and looked down at him like he was stupid.  
  
"Maria." His brow furrowed and he tried to place the name. No use.  
  
"Maria who?"  
  
She almost looked mad at the question. "Maria Malone. Your wife."  
  
One thought ran through his mind; who was Samantha?  
  
Maria reached over him and pushed the call button for a nurse. Moments later an older woman walked into the room and asked how she could help.  
  
Maria faced her, fuming. She started to talk to the woman as if he wasn't even there.  
  
"He doesn't remember me!"  
  
"Ma'am please calm---"  
  
Who was Samantha?  
  
"Calm down?! I can't calm down! My own husband---"  
  
Who was she? Why had she been there everyday?  
  
"I'm sure it's normal. I'm sure he'll have his memory back in no time."  
  
Why? His mind asked again.  
  
He turned to look at the two women. "Where's Samantha? I want to see Samantha."  
  
Maria shook her head. "Jack, I don't think that's a good idea."  
  
"I want Samantha!"  
  
The words hit him. He closed his eyes and saw an image of a building in the night. The building was replaced with blood. Samantha was in the middle of the blood, squinting her eyes at the feel of pain.  
  
His eyes flashed open and he took a deep breath. Was that a memory? Then why was it of her and not his wife?  
  
Who was Samantha?  
  
To Be Continued... 


	3. Chapter 3

Finally, peace and quiet. Maria had been there for hours... much longer then he would have preferred. It was weird, for some reason, he couldn't figure out why he would have ever married her. She was irritating, to say the least.  
  
All he wanted was to see Samantha. Maria had refused, ordering the doctors not to let him call her. Why couldn't he call her? It bothered him, not knowing why Maria disliked Samantha so much.  
  
There was a soft knocking at the door and he groaned. God, don't let it be Maria, he thought. He turned, a smile coming to his face when he saw familiar blonde hair.  
  
"Samantha!"  
  
She smiled, walking into the room and over beside his bed. She reached for his hand, cupping it between her's. "How are you feeling?"  
  
"Exhausted. Who knew learning about yourself could be so tiring?" She nodded like she understood. He guessed she didn't. "I can't remember anything."  
  
He watched her frown, now he knew she was confused. "Anything at all?"  
  
"Maria came in today, before that, I don't remember ever seeing her. I don't remember you except---" He stopped, he didn't know who Samantha was, could he trust her? He had to have someone he could talk to. It all seemed to be a conspiracy, with the doctors working on his 'wife's' side. He definitely couldn't trust them. Definitely.  
  
"Except what?" She pulled a chair over so that she was sitting beside his bed and leaned closer to him. She seemed to notice the hesitation and fear in his voice. "Jack, you can trust me."  
  
"I had this--memory, I guess you could call it. There was a building in the dark, then I saw you.. laying in a pool of blood." He looked over at her, pain etched across his face. "I want to know everything, Sam. Every last detail."  
  
"You called me Sam," she whispered.  
  
"So?"  
  
"How did you know to call me Sam?"  
  
"I don't know. It just came out."  
  
She nodded. "You want to know everything? Your name is Jack Malone, you're an FBI agent. Your wife's name is Maria, you have two little girls, Hanna and Kate and.. that's about it."  
  
He shook his head. "That's not all of it. I want to know about you."  
  
"Me?" she croaked. She let go of his hands and looked down at the worn down flooring. "I don't think you want to know that part."  
  
"Please," he whispered. How could it be so bad? The only things he could remember were things about her, that had to mean that there was something between them. It overjoyed him to know that he had children, the fact that they were with Maria dulled that, but it still made him happy. What would make him happier would be knowing who Samantha was and how they were connected.  
  
"I work with you. Worked. Technically, you transferred out of our department the day you went into your coma."  
  
"That's it?" He had a hard time believing that that was the only connection they had.  
  
"We uh--were involved--at one time."  
  
"Involved? What do you mean?" He was married to Maria.. how could he have been 'involved' with Samantha?  
  
She sighed deeply. "We had an affair."  
  
Wow. That surprised him. "An---affair?"  
  
Samantha nodded, standing up to leave. "I'm not happy about it, and since you can't remember it I suppose it would be best to leave it in the past."  
  
"Wait," he called. She turned, hand resting on the door knob, and stared at him. "Can I ask one more question?" She nodded slowly. "Was it love?"  
  
The question didn't seem to faze her as she took a deep breath and held his gaze. "For me, or for you?"  
  
"Both..."  
  
"I love you, Jack. I know it in my heart. You'll have to answer the other part."  
  
And with that, she left.  
  
To Be Continued... 


	4. Chapter 4

Samantha didn't come back and he wondered why. A week passed and still she hadn't stopped by.  
  
Maria was getting antsy for some reason, she was there more and more and when he was pretending to be asleep, he could hear her discussing with the doctors when he would be allowed to leave. He dreaded the day. It was almost like she didn't want him in New York. He couldn't figure that one out.  
  
Two weeks after waking up, the doctors came into his room and announced that he could go home. He groaned.  
  
Of course, she was his wife and he had an obligation to her--so he went. Instead of driving to some apartment in the city though, they went straight to the airport. He frowned as she pulled the car into the airport parking lot.  
  
"What's going on?" he questioned. "I thought--I was told we live in New York."  
  
"Not anymore." She got out of the car, going around to the passenger side and helping him out.  
  
He was still sore and he occasionally found it hard to walk, but all-in-all, he was significantly better.  
  
"Maria! Stop." He leaned against the car and held her shoulders, keeping her in place. "Tell me what's going on."  
  
"We moved to Chicago," she explained. "The day after you got shot."  
  
That didn't make sense. Why--why would they move? Samantha had said that he transfered but he never thought it was out of New York, he thought it was just to a different team.  
  
He didn't comment, just followed Maria into the airport and towards the right flight. Apparently she had scheduled them leaving the hospital and arriving at the airport perfectly. They got right onto the plane.  
  
Even though he was upset and confused, he couldn't help smiling. Maria frowned, glancing over at him. "What's wrong with you?"  
  
"Is there something wrong with smiling?"  
  
"No. You just never smile."  
  
He shrugged, leaning back in his seat. "I can't remember flying in a plane, it's a cool experience."  
  
She nodded and fished a book out of her bag, beginning to read. He yawned, feeling the plane start to fly smoothly. He reclined his chair and layed back, letting his eyes close and sleep come over him.  
  
-  
  
_Her hands were shaking and he glanced over at her, smiling.  
  
"Stop it! It's not funny."  
  
Jack shook his head, reaching over and holding her hand. "It's alright, nothing is going to happen."  
  
She nodded, taking a deep breath and holding his hand just a little tighter. "I don't know why this case had to involve going to Chicago---I hate flying."  
  
"You haven't ever flown before," he pointed out.  
  
"So." They hit turbulance and she grabbed onto him, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her head in his neck.  
  
"It's alright," he whispered, running his hand through her hair. "I promise you, Sam, it's going to be alright."  
_  
-  
  
To be continued... 


	5. Chapter 5

He hated Chicago. He hated everything about it. Maria was just a little too overprotective, she wasn't even going to let him work. Not that he could remember how.  
  
The only thing he could remember, were the things he wanted to forget. He was married with two wonderful little girls, he didn't need to keep remembering things about his ex-mistress.  
  
Maria walked out onto the back porch, sitting down beside him. He'd been sitting there for countless hours, watching the lake and thinking about his life---or what he knew of it.  
  
"Hi," she muttered, bringing him out of his trance.  
  
He turned his head, looking at her briefly before looking back at the water. "Hey."  
  
"Listen, I--" He shook his head causing her to stop speaking raise her eyebrows in question. "What?"  
  
"I don't want to hear whatever excuse you're going to give me."  
  
"Jack, I have no need for an excuse."  
  
He sighed, frustrated with his life, he liked New York--he wanted to be there. "You need an excuse for bringing me here. I don't want to be here, this isn't my home."  
  
Maria stood, anger in her eyes as she stood in front of him, blocking his gaze on the water. "This is your home! Your family is here... I'm here. This. Is. Your. Home. And just because _she_ isn't here, doesn't mean it isn't home."  
  
He heard the venom in her voice as she made mention of Samantha (that had to be who she was talking about). No wonder she had so quickly made sure he was on a plane to Chicago. She was trying to make it so that everything he remembered was about her. She didn't want him to know Samantha!  
  
"Are you jealous of her?" he asked, the question slipping past his lips before he had a chance to stop it.  
  
"Jealous?! No. I'm mad." That was obvious. "You ruined our family just so you could scr--"  
  
"Shut up!" He stood, brushing past her and limping towards the master bedroom. She followed---oh how he just wanted her to leave him alone.  
  
"You can just walk away from this, Jack! You pretend like you can't remember all the problems we had. She ruined everything! She ruined you, you were different after you had been with her. And you spent more time with her then you did your own children! You missed seeing them grow up!"  
  
"Just shut up."  
  
"Hanna knows. She knows about _her_."  
  
-  
  
_"Daddy," she whispered, walking into the living room and sitting down on the couch beside her father.  
  
"Hanna, what are you doing up?"  
  
"Can't sleep." She looked down at the picture in her father's hands. It was from a company picnic the year before, her father stood in the middle of the photo. For the first time she noticed that in the picture he was staring at a woman that stood off to his side. She knew that woman---she worked with her father.  
  
"You should go back to bed." Hanna caught a faint cracking in his voice and she looked up at her father's face. He was crying, tears falling down his cheeks. She had never seen him cry before.  
  
"Who is she, Daddy?" Her voice was soft and sweet. "Daddy, why are you crying?"  
  
"It's nothing, sweetheart--"  
  
"Did she die?"  
  
He shook his head. "No. I did something to hurt her and I'm afraid that I lost her friendship." He quickly wiped his eyes and turned to her, smiling. "Come on now, off to bed."  
_  
-  
  
"I... I.. I have to go," he stated. He grabbed a duffel bag, filling it with clothes and walking out of the room, the memory floating around in his mind.  
  
"Don't think we'll let you come back! You have broken their hearts one too many times!" Maria shouted after him.  
  
To be continued... 


	6. Chapter 6

Quietly, hesitantly, he stepped off the elevator and followed the directions that the receptionist had given him. He stood in the doorway of the offices, looking around the room and immediatly spotting Samantha at a desk across the way. Her back was to him and she typed furiously on her computer.  
  
"Jack."  
  
He turned, hearing his name. Behind him stood a younger man wearing an off colored suit. And was that... a pink shirt? He glanced closer, reading the badge hooked to the other mans suit. Martin Fitzgerald.  
  
"Martin!" he exclaimed, smiling because the other man actually thought he could remember him.  
  
"It's good to see you back here, Jack. How long are you in town for?"  
  
His gaze inadvertantly went back to Samantha, she was watching them, smiling. He wondered if she could hear what they were saying. Most likely.  
  
"I'm not sure yet." He turned back to Martin, smiling politely. "Could you excuse me for one moment?"  
  
He didn't wait for an answer before walking through the maze of desks towards Samantha's. He leaned against it, meeting her gaze and holding it for a fraction of a second.  
  
"Hey you."  
  
He smiled, he couldn't help it. "Hey. Think you could leave for a bit to go to lunch?"  
  
He watched her turn her head and look at Martin for a moment before looking back at him. "I don't think I can, I'm really busy here."  
  
"Please, Samantha." He leaned closer to her, lowering his voice. "Maria and I had a fight, that's why I left Chicago---I just need someone to talk to."  
  
She thought about it for a minute before nodding. "Meet me downstairs, I'll only be a minute."  
  
"Okay." He smiled, moving away from her desk and back out into the hallway that led to the elevator. He glanced back at her, out of curiousity, and watched as she stood and walked over to Martin's desk.  
  
She leaned close to him and they exchanged words and after a moment she pulled away and went back to her desk.  
  
He turned, hurrying down the hall towards the elevator and pushing the 'down' button. He waited. And waited.  
  
"I thought I told you to meet me downstairs," she stated, walking up and standing beside him.  
  
"Oh, I just--ran into another person who was determined to ask me every question he could think of."  
  
"Who was it?"  
  
He smirked, stepping onto the elevator with her. "I honestly don't remember."  
  
To be continued... 


	7. Chapter 7

He sat down across from Samantha in the small diner, reaching for his menu and looking it over before looking up at her. "So tell me, who's Martin Fitzgerald? He obviously knows me but I can't remember a thing about him."  
  
Samantha frowned, "you still don't remember anything?"  
  
"I remember you."  
  
"From the hospital?"  
  
He nodded. He wasn't going to tell her about his other memories, especially after what he saw back at the office.  
  
"None of it's coming back." She sighed.  
  
"After spending time with Maria, I'm not sure that's a bad thing." He leaned forward, elbows on the forgotten menu as he watched her. "Who's Martin?"  
  
"He's part of the team you used to work for, the Missing Persons Unit."  
  
"Right. That would make sense." He paused for a moment. "You two dating?"  
  
Her eyes widened in response. "Why would you think that?"  
  
He shrugged. "Just an---observation."  
  
"What's going on with you, Jack?"  
  
"I don't know. I guess I'm lost."  
  
"You mentioned you had a fight with Maria." She stared at him.  
  
He nodded, taking a drink of water from the glass in front of him. "Yeah and I left to come back here but now I'm not sure why. The thing I came back for seems to be gone."  
  
"What's that?" She continued to stare at him.  
  
"You."  
  
"Oh. You said you didn't remember anything though."  
  
"I remember how to lie."  
  
"What else are you lying about?" She quipped.  
  
"Just that." He sighed. "All I remember is stuff about you---I don't even remember anything about my family!"  
  
"I'm sure it'll come back to you." Samantha's hand reached across the table.  
  
"Are you dating him?" he asked again. He figured he already knew the answer but he needed to hear her say it.  
  
"We haven't officially gone out," Samantha frowned, "but we are sleeping together."  
  
Jack nodded. "Oh."  
  
Samantha sighed. "I know it isn't what you wanted to hear but---" she paused, "you hurt me."  
  
"Wish I could remember doing so. I would know what I did wrong."  
  
"No you don't." Her eyes fluttered closed and opened again looking up at him. "Your better off not remembering."  
  
He looked away from her, taking a deep breath. "I'm beginning to think that lunch wasn't such a good idea."  
  
"I don't mean to upset you," She breathed. "I just---getting over you, was the hardest thing I've ever had to do."  
  
"Then why did you lead me on?"  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"In the hospital. You said you love me."  
  
She stood up. "I should go back to work."  
  
He nodded, looking down at the table. "Tell Martin I said hi," he muttered.  
  
She tossed some cash on the table and grabbed her coat. "If you hadn't of gone to Chicago, things might have turned out differently."  
  
He looked up at her, trying to hide his anger. How could she even think that he would choose to do that? "Yeah--I suppose so."  
  
She grabbed her keys from the table. "I never led you on." She clarified "I was only being honest." She headed out the door.  
  
To Be Continued... 


	8. Chapter 8

Life sucked. He couldn't go back to his wife; that would be worse then his current position, and she most likely wouldn't let him come back. He couldn't go to Samantha's---that was a mistake waiting to happen.  
  
He had one option: get a job and support himself. Thankfully he had enough money for a motel room. He spent his first night back in New York, tossing and turning along the hard bed. He couldn't get Samantha's words out of his head. How had he hurt her?  
  
He moved onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. He closed his eyes, hoping for sleep but all he could see was her.  
  
_"You know, when Farrell asked me about us, my instinct was to tell him the truth..."  
_  
Jack's eyes flashed open and he sat up quickly. He frowned, the words were so clear, as if she was sitting right there in front of him.  
  
_"...because it's been really hard for me not telling anyone...being around you all the time and pretending like nothing ever happened, you know?"_  
  
He did know. He could feel it. And even though he couldn't remember every moment between them or what it felt like to hold her--kiss her---he knew.  
  
_"I don't think I was lying to save you. I think, in that moment, I thought maybe... if I say this, if everybody knows... then it really will be over."_  
  
Her voice paused and in his mind he could picture her face, full of sorrow and pain.  
  
_"It is over, isn't it?"_  
  
As his drifted shut and sleep finally started to overcome him, he heard his voice. It was filled with the same sorrow and the same pain.  
  
_"Yeah, it's over."  
_  
-  
  
He found a bookstore, down the street from his motel, that was hiring. He didn't really want to have to work there but he was short on choices. He couldn't go back to his old job, considering he didn't even remember what he did there.  
  
Plus, this place gave him a vibe, oddly enough. He felt like he knew, like he'd been there before.  
  
He picked up an application, along with a copy of a book about living in New York. As he walked back to the motel he thought about the book in his hand. Funny how he'd been told that he had lived in New York for most of his life; yet he couldn't remember any of it. He didn't even know what part of the city he was in.  
  
"It would be nice if some of my memories were about this place and not just---her," he muttered to himself, leaning over the wobbly table in his motel room, trying to fill out the application. He didn't know most of the stuff so he left it blank. Maybe they'd over look it.  
  
-  
  
"Mr. Malone, you're hired."  
  
He frowned, staring at the spikey haired manager across from him. "I have to warn you, I can't remember a lot about books."  
  
"I know, I talked to your doctor, he explained your condition to me. Don't worry about it." He shook the manager's hand, smiling in gratitude.  
  
"Thank you, it means alot."  
  
"I have a feeling that you'll be a wonderful addition to the Table of Contents staff."  
  
To Be Continued... 


	9. Chapter 9

He was in the middle of a new book when the bell on the door jingled. He had been working at the bookstore for over a week and new the routine all too well.  
  
"Welcome to Table Of Contents, if there's anything I can help you find, just let me know," he stated, not even taking his eyes off the page in front of him.  
  
"Jack?" He turned, frowning when he saw the person who had walked through the doors.  
  
"Samantha." He looked back at his book, continuing to read. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"Looking for a book. This is a bookstore isn't it?"  
  
He nodded. "Sorry, we're all sold out of _Dating For Dummies_."  
  
Samantha shook her head, rolling her eyes as she walked towards the many racks of books. "Oh? You buy the last copy?"  
  
"Of course. I can't remember anything so I have to---you know, read up on the subject." Another customer walked up to the register and Jack smiled, taking the book from the man and ringing it through. "12.99," he stated, reading the price to the man.  
  
"Relationship problems?" the man asked, handing him the money and glancing over towards Samantha.  
  
"We're not in a relationship."  
  
"Oh. Could of sworn by the way that you two were bickering, that you were atleast dating---if not married." The man shook his head, taking the bag Jack held out to him. "What do I know though? Thank you."  
  
"Thank you, sir." Jack watched the door as the man left. He caught a glimpse of the movie theater across the street and felt familiarity pulling at him. Before he knew it, he was standing and moving to the door so that he could get a clearer view.  
  
"What are you staring at?" Samantha whispered, inches behind him.  
  
Jack shrugged, he wasn't absolutely sure of what he was looking at. "The movie theater, across the street." He closed his eyes for a moment and saw the same scene only at night and he was standing outside the building---walking towards them.  
  
"Jack? Jack, what's wrong?"  
  
His eyes flashed open and he spun around, staring at her. "What happened here?"  
  
Samantha frowned, looking confused. "What do you mean?"  
  
"Something happened here. Something involving you. I can't remember the event but---I remember parts of it. I remember that theater, I remember you--on the floor, in a pool of blood. Tell me, Samantha. I want to know."  
  
"No you don't," she whispered, she pushed the book that she had been holding, into his hands and brushed past him, leaving the bookstore in a rush.  
  
To Be Continued... 


	10. Chapter 10

Once a week, on Thursday, Samantha stopped into the bookstore and picked up a new book. He figured that she probably had a library by now.  
  
After a month and a half working at Table of Contents, and many hour-long phone calls to his soon to be ex-wife, he finally got an apartment. It wasn't big, but it wasn't small either--it was more like--empty.  
  
Furniture was bought with the next weeks pay and before he knew it, he had a home. Now if only he had a family to raise in it...  
  
"Have you finished reading it yet?" Samantha asked, standing on the other side of the counter and waiting for him to ring up her book.  
  
"Finished reading what?" He ran the book and pointed at the screen that told her the price.  
  
"_Dating for Dummies_." She paid him and stood holding the book and waiting for an answer.  
  
"Oh! Yeah---it's done me alot of good. I've got dates coming out of my ears." He looked around the bookstore. "And when I'm not in this...hellhole, I'm having the time of my life."  
  
"That's good."  
  
Jack sighed. "How's Martin?"  
  
Samantha shrugged. She made no move towards the door. "He moved---to Washington D.C."  
  
Jack was shocked and he reached over and grabbed her hand as he noticed a lone tear rolling down her cheek. "Why?"  
  
"His father got word of our relationship, didn't like the thought of it so he gave him two choices: lose me or lose his job."  
  
"I'm sorry," he whispered.  
  
"It's alright. Who am I kidding? It never would have worked out anyways---it was just a fling."  
  
"Still," he ran the pad of his thumb over the top of her hand, "you deserved to be happy."  
  
Samantha nodded, staring at their hands, she waited a minute before asking softly, "when are you off?"  
  
"I've got another hour before I close up."  
  
"Want to---grab some dinner?"  
  
He was even more shocked. The last time they had attempted to eat a decent meal together, it hadn't ended very well.  
  
"Sure. Can you meet me back here in an hour?"  
  
She smiled, reluctantly letting go of his hand. "Yeah... see you then."  
  
"Bye."  
  
To Be Continued... 


End file.
